Invocation
by ScribbleDream
Summary: The Breakfast Club is falling apart. None of them want to leave their old lives behind them, bad as they were. But when John shows up on Claire's doorstep, the members realize they can't just ignore their friends, even if they're different.
1. The Damsel and the Distressed

Title: Invocation  
Author: ScribbleDream  
Summary: The Breakfast Club is falling apart. None of them want to leave their old lives behind them, bad as they were. But when John shows up on Claire's doorstep, the members realize they can't just ignore their friends, even if they're different.  
Rating: T, for drugs, drinking, languageand violence (all mild)  
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, and it has taken me months of therapy to be able to admit that.  
A/N: My first Breakfast Club fic, so be constructive, please! First chapter's Claire, but the other's will have their turn. Reviews equal good. ConCrit equals better!

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_Chapter One: The Damsel and the Distressed_

It was three weeks since the Breakfast Club. Claire knew she should call Allison, or Andy, or even Brian, but she couldn't. She was scared to use the phone. And she _loved_ the phone.

What would they say if she called? She could see it in her mind: Hey, Ally, it's Claire. _Oh, it's Claire? GO TO HELL!_ The thought made her nauseous, not that she could blame them. Well, she could have, but not without feeling incredibly guilty. She had blown everyone but Andy off, and now, in defense of the others, he was blowing _her_ off. She wasn't used to that.

Andy was doing pretty well with his new friends, as far as she could tell. He'd proved his worth as a human being by preventing his own best friend, Mike Tanner, from beating up Brian. Tanner wasn't speaking to Andrew now, but a few of the other jocks actually thought it was pretty cool of Andy to stand up for the less fortunate. Apparently, Robin Hood was in these days, Claire mused. So, Andy was still part of the Breakfast Club. As for her own status... well, Claire just hoped they wouldn't dismember her.

She became angry at the thought. Just because her friends wouldn't let Allison sit with her, she was evil. Just because she wouldn't be Brian's partner in Geometry, she was scum. Just because she wouldn't hold John's hand in the hallway... _John_. She had tried to forget him.

It didn't work. He was still there, in the back of her mind, lingering. All he did in school was glaring. Sometimes she thought he only came to school so he could glare at her, make her feel thouroughly guilty, and then leave. She didn't have any actual classes with him, except lunch, so she didn't actually know if he left, but she knew he did. He was still John after all.

Allison didn't even look at her in class, not after that first Monday when she'd tried to sit with Claire at lunch. All of her friends had kicked Allison from the table, laughing at calling her a freak. Claire had just sat there. Andy went off on her later.

_"What do you think that was, Claire? She's your friend!"_

_"What was I suppose to do, Andy? What? Tell me."_

_"Anything! Anything would have been better than just sitting there and letting it happen!"_

She drove the thought from her mind. She hated Andy made at her. Before the detention, they hadn't even been that close, but somehow his anger stung more than her best friend's. Former best friends. Shannon's superficial friendship really paled in comparison to Allison's or Andy's or Brian's. Or even John's. And yet she'd chosen Shannon and Kerry and Brit over the Breaktfast Club. It was the dumbest thing she'd ever done.

Sitting on her bed, she heard the storm begin. She heard the rain fall down, heard the thunder crack, but didn't bother to look out the window. She usually liked the rain, too, one of her little quirks. But the rain made her think of John. One of her fantasies always was to be kissed in the rain, soaking wet, and the only person she wanted to kiss was John. But he hated her. They all hated her.

She tried reading a magazine, but couldn't pay attention. She considered calling Shannon, but couldn't bring herself to pick up the phone. She watched TV for a while, but kept seeing their faces on her favorite soap characters. Damn them. Damn that detention. Why did she have to skip class to go shopping? The sale wasn't even that good! And she had to take everything back as punishment anyway!

But the truth was, she wouldn't take back that Saturday even if she could. It had been the only day in her life where she was truly understood, and appreciated, and nothing was expected of her. In the beginning, sure, she had been expected to be snobby and regal and all those other things, but after a while, she was just Claire. And they were just Allison and Brian and Andy and John. Not stereotypes. They stopped being stereotypes and started being people. And it was really the first time she had thought she could be anything other than a Princess.

Claire was bored with her room, so she wandered around the upstairs hallway. Her house was huge, and she knew it, and until then she had loved it. But now it just felt so empty and cold. _Vast_. Too vast for only three family members and a maid. The hallway just made her feel more lonely.

She went down to the living room, where she turned on the big TV. In her head she knew that it was really no different than the TV up in her room, but she turned it on anyway, flipping channels, ignoring her mother and father arguing in the kitchen. Or at least trying too. John had understood arguing parents. They all had. Shannon didn't understand, her parents were happily married. Kerry's parents had divorced before she was born, she'd never heard them argue. And Brit... well, Brit's family was so perfect it was a little creepy. None of them knew what it was like to spend evenings listening to their parents arguing over which one loved them more, which one should keep them, which one had done what to hurt the other one. And if they had, they didn't talk about it. Claire wished they would have, so now she wouldn't feel so lonely. She'd have someone to talk to then.

She heard the door bell ring. She ignored it, but dully noted that her parents instantly stopped fighting. To save face in front of strangers. Kinda pathetic.

The bell rang again. Claire yelled for Gloria, the maid, but she didn't come. She remembered it was Sunday, the maid's day off. _Of course_, Claire thought, mentally smacking herself in the head. Her parents certainly weren't going to get the door. She pulled herself off of the couch as another thunder bolt clapped outside the window. Grumbling to herself about not wanting to talk to anyone, she walked into the entry way, and opened the door.

A thouroughly soaked teenager stood in front of her, bloodied and bruised so badly on their face that Claire thought she was going to be sick. She stared in horror and sadness, her heart clenching. Everything sad she'd ever seen in her life, including the scene in Bambi when the mother was shot, did not compare to this. The pain those bruises - was that a black eye? Abroken nose?- must have caused was unimaginable to her. She reached out her hand, but couldn't speak. There was a bump in her throat, a mountain that speech couldn't climb. Finally she swallowed, and spoke, all the sadness in the world in the two words she said.

"Oh, John."


	2. We Were Friends Once

A/N: Wow! I'm glad you guys like it so much.. I was going to wait until tomorrow to update this (it's my birthday tomorrow! 15, score!) but since you guys like it, I thought I'd give you a treat, haha. Thank everyone for reviewing, it means so much to me!

Love  
Scribs_

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Chapter Two: We Were Friends Once

Andy wasn't sure what had gone wrong with his friendship with the Breakfast Club. He thought he'd done everything right. He'd stood up for them with his friends, he'd sat with them at lunch, he'd even skipped wrestling practice one day to walk Allison home because she lived in a bad part of town. But apparently, that just annoyed them. Apparently he was being too "protective" too much like a "father." Well, so what? So what if he wanted to protect his friends? Isn't that what you were supposed to do with friend?

The real trouble started with Claire. All because she wouldn't sit with Allison at lunch. Allison had sat at a lonely table that day and cried. Not sobbing so anybody noticed, but there were definitely tears. He knew, as he had sat down right across from her. She didn't try to hide the tears, but no one else would have noticed them except Andy, Brian, and John. They sat together, like friends were supposed to. Not like Claire.

So he confronted her. Told her exactly what he thought of her and her so called friends and where she could shove them. That was where the real trouble started. Allison had told him to mind his own business, and she could take care of it. She was a big girl, she was fine, Claire could sit with whomever she wanted, but Andy had been there that day. He's seen her cry. He couldn't just let it go. Could he?

Then Mike Tanner tried to beat up Brian, get him to do his homework for him or some other jock bullshit. So, Andy intervened. He did what he was supposed to do, he helped his friend. He told Tanner, his ex-best friend, that he was protecting Brian and Tanner better step off before he got himself hurt. After the confrontation, Andy had turned around and Brian was just glaring at him. _Glaring_ at him. And what had he done wrong, that was what he wanted to know.

And John... he didn't even know what happened to make John hate him, but he did. He spent all of first period glaring at Andy from the back of the room so hard that Andy could feel it in the back of his neck.

"Stupid Breakfast Club," he said out loud, staring at the ceiling of his room. "It was a dumb idea anyway."

"What was a dumb idea?" asked a small, teasing voice from the doorway. _Damn it_, Andy thought, looking over at his little sister. He could have sworn he'd closed that door.

"Go away, Jenni," he groaned.

"_What_ was a dumb idea, Andy?" she persisted, scrunching her seven year old face into a scowl.

"Mom and Dad having you," Andy answered, instantly regretting it. Jennifer's screeches could be heard all around the house as she ran down the stairs shouting of the injustice he had inflicted upon her. He just rolled his eyes and locked his door, blaring his radio station. He was not in the mood for a lecture from his parents.

He heard his phone ring under a pile of dirty clothes. He dug for it, wondering who would be calling. Not a girl, he hoped, unless it was Allison, but she was still made at him. Hopefully not a guy from the team. Brian and John, maybe? No. They hated him now, too.

"Hello?" he yelled into the phone. Something was said on the other end of the line that he couldn't hear. "What?"

"I said is Andy there!" screamed an unrecognizable female voice that seemed somehow familiar. He was sure that if he turned down the music he would know who it was, but he wasn't ready to hear his father's pounding fists on the door, and threats of grounding if he did not open this door right now. He had to work not to roll his eyes at the thought.

"This is Andy!" he shouted back.

"Oh. What's that noise?"

"Music!"

"Oh..." The voice trailed off. He wasn't sure if she said anything more, or if she just stopped talking, but soon she yelled, "Andy?"

"What?"

"I said Andy!"

Andy smacked his forehead. "No! I mean I heard you not what did you say!"

"Oh!"

"So what were you going to say?"

"I was gonna say this is... uh, I was gonna say it's Claire!"

Andy shut his mouth. He was surprised that she'd have the guts to call him after everything. He didn't say anything, but he also didn't hang up, and he didn't know why. He should have hung up. Or better, he should have just set down the phone and let her yell into his radio. But he didn't. He stayed listening to her, and he had absolutely no idea why.

She seemed to know what he was thinking, and almost instantly launched into an explanation. "I know you hate me, Andy, but... I need a favor."

Andy almost laughed at the audacity, but he stayed cool. "What makes you think I'm going to do a favor for you, huh? What makes you think I'd do anything for you?"

"B-because. Because we used to be friends once, remember? We used to be real close, even if it was only for a little while. You'd do this for Brian or Ally, you know you would. Please, Andy. Do this one favor for me."

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. She'd got him. He couldn't turn down a friend, no matter what kind of jerk they were being. "... what's the favor?"

"Come over."

"What?"

"Right now, come over. Please, Andy, I'd tell you what's going on, but I can't shout it over the phone, okay? Just... it's big and it's important!"

"I can't leave! It's almostten o'clock!"

"Sneak out!" she pleaded. "Please, Andy? I... I need you."

Andy sighed. "Fine. I'm as good as there."

"And don't go to the front, my parents think I'm asleep. Climb up the tree in the back, and the window will be open. Climb through that, it's my room. I'm gonna call Allison, too-"

Thoughts of Allison crying flashed through Andy's mind. He couldn't let her do that. "No! Call... Call Brian. Not Allison. Don't call Allison."

"I don't have Brian's number!"

He gave it to her, and hung up without the usual formalities. She didn't deserve them anyway. Throwing on a pair of old running shoes that wouldn't get ruined in the rain and a windbreaker, he climbed out of the window, thankful for once in his life to live in a ranch house. He turned off the radio before hand, just to hear his father shouting at him to get out of there right now or they'll be no parties next weekend, mister!

His shoes sloshed on the wet ground and he pulled up his hood before running off through the rain, glad that Claire lived only a few blocks from his house. He gritted his teeth and endured the cold, trying to remember the urgency in Claire's voice when she said that it was big and it was important._ It better be, Claire Standish. It sure as hell better be._


	3. Shouldn't Have Come

_Chapter Three: Shouldn't Have Come_

"Oh, John."

With those two words, everything he ever felt came flooding back to John Bender. Her sadness, her care... it overwhelmed him to the point of breaking down. He shouldn't have come. He should never have come to see her. He should have known that this would happen, but... he had no where else to go.

"Good to know you remember my name," he said, coldly. She reached for his hand. He pulled out of her reach.

"John..."

"Bender," he corrected. She looked heartbroken when he said it. _Shouldn't have come_, he thought again. He shoved his hands roughly into the pockets of his light jacket, and regretted it. Broken finger. Of course. He tried to hide the wince. He failed.

"Joh- I mean, Bender. Come in, please. Come in."

He was about to say that he should go, wondering why he had come here in the first place, when she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder before he could move away. He almost melted. She managed to lead him inside and shut the door.

"Who was it, Claire, dear?" someone called from somewhere in the huge house. John was overwhelmed by the size of it all, and the fact that Claire didn't seem to notice it at all.

"No one, Mother. Prank, probably," she lied. She lied so easily. No wonder turning her back on her new found friends hadn't caused her to even break a sweat. "I'm going to bed, now."

"Good night, dear," two voices yelled at the same time. John almost laughed. If he had said that he was going to bed at _his_ house, his father's only reply would have been a belch and a _Good riddance, slacker! Hope you die in your sleep!_

Claire ushered him up long, elegant stairs, down a hallway that overlooked the entrance hall (it was the most regal thing he could think of to call it) and into a large, overly embellished bedroom. She closed the door and locked it, all without taking her eyes off him. It was as if she was afraid she would lose him. He began to get uncomfortable under her gaze, but didn't show it. Or at least he hoped he didn't.

She motioned toward a lavish bed, covered in pillows, blankets that looked warm, and a four poster, pink, lacey curtain that wouldn't have shielded anything from view. "Sit down."

"I don't think so, Princess," he said.

"John, please. Just sit. Sit and tell me what all of this is about."

This time he did laugh. As if she'd ever know what any of it was like. Looking around her room at all the magazines and posters and little, frilly knick knacks, his thoughts were confirmed. He really should never have come, not to her. Allison, Brian, hell, even Sporto would understand better than Duchess Claire, sitting in her tall tower, away from reality, waiting for some prince on a white horse to gallop by so she could let down her goddamn hair.

"Actually, Rapunzel was a princess, not a duchess," Claire said, a hint of humor shining through the sobreity. John realized with slight horror that he had said all of that aloud. He really had to start watching that.

"Semantics," he said.

"If you really didn't think I'd understand, or care about, what happened to you, why'd you come?"

That, he had to admit, was a very good question. He didn't know. He'd just wandered over here after hours of aimlessness for no discernable reason. "What can I say," he said, shrugging venemously. "I have an avid curiousity. I wanted to see how you... _others_ live. You Richies."

She gave what might have been a laugh bitterly through her nose and looked at the ground. "I, uh, thought we were more than that to each other."

"Yeah. Me too."

She wandered over to a table that might have been a dresser. He couldn't tell, there was too much makeup all over it. There also sat a phone. She began to dial a number. He grabbed her wrist after the third button, wincing again at the broken finger, but managing to turn it into a snarl. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Calling your friends," she hissed back, just as angry. "You obviously want your little buddies to take you under their wings and not me. Don't worry, Andy'll be over here in a little while to take you home and make it all better."

"Sporto? Like I want that guy to know all of my problems," he laughed bitterly, letting go of her wrist. She continued to dial. "Hey, stop that. Stop calling him. I don't need his help."

"Too bad," she said, bringing the phone to her ear. "You're getting it. Now shut up and sit on the bed before I make you."

He raised an eyebrow at her, and she did the same back. Finally, he conceded, not because she told him too, but because his legs were tired from walking and he needed to sit. At least, that's what he kept telling himself.

She called Andy, and he was surprised that there was a lot of shouting involved. He wondered if her parents would hear, but they were probably in one of their underground bank vaults counting their money or some other stupid thing rich people did. He wished she wouldjust hang up with Andy. He would rather get help from a hungry shark than Andrew Clark and his stupid hero complex at the moment. He wasn't anybody's rescue mission, and the way Andy had treated Brian and Ally, that was where he was headed.

After she hung up the phone, she dialed again. "Who the hell are you calling now?" he demanded.

"Brian," she replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"No! Don't you da- you hang up that phone right now!"

She held up a hand as she asked politely if Brian was at home and could he speak please, it was important. "Yes, really important, Mrs. Johnson, a matter of life and death... No, don't call the police, Mrs. Johnson! That was just a bad choice of words... Okay, thank you so much, and I'm so sorry."

Brian was probably the last person who would want to help John out, not after the fight they'd had. That fight was really all Andy's fault anyway. All John had tried to do was talk to Brian, and he'd jumped on him, saying that John had no right to do what he did, to throw everything away the way he was, and how was Brian supposed to trust a drugged up, high school drop out anyway? John didn't know what he was talking about, but when he asked, all Brian said was, "Ask Andy! You and he are so busy looking out for me you don't even notice you're too screwed up to get out of bed in the morning!" and stormed off. John would have attributed it to PMS if, you know, Brian had been a chick.

Claire finished with Brian and informed John that Brian would be calling Allison and they'd all be over here in a matter of half an hour. John wasn't exactly sure why Allison hated him, but she did. They all hated him, and he hated them back. Or at least he could pretend he did. He was really good at pretending.

"Now," Claire said, sitting down beside him. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

He considered it, staring into her eyes like he was, and it was hard not to. But all he did was flop down onto the pile of pillows, ignoring the throbbing pain in his chest, arms, legs, and head, and said, "Not a chance, Princess."

"Then why are you here, John?"

He just looked at her. "I don't really know."

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A/N: There's the Claire/John for ya:-D I'm going to wait for the rest of the group to get here before I explain what happened to our lovely Bender, but I bet you guys can figure it out. ;) Bender's just angst witing to happen, ain't he? Haha. Well, keep the reviews coming, I'm really flattered that you guys like it so much. But if you find anything wrong with it, be sure to tell me! o.O

Much love,  
Scribs


	4. Getting Over Anger

A/N: I'm really sorry that I didn't update sooner, so I gave you guys an extra-long chapter! Brian's POV, Ally's next. I'm not sure how I'm going to protray her, but I'll figure something out. Tell me what you think!

Oh, and I dont' have spell check, so if oyu find a word that's misspelled or two words run together or what have you, be sure to tell me so I can fix it! Thanks!

Love from Scribs

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_Chapter Four: Getting Over Anger_

Brian was mad. He was mad at everyone and everything, and he didn't care if they knew it. He'd never been really mad at anyone in his entire life, but now he was, and he kinda liked it.

He got mad at Claire first, for everything she did to Allison. Although she didn't like to show it, Ally was probably the most fragile out of all of them. Brian had never felt like he should protect someone before, but with her, he felt like it was somehow his duty. She probably didn't need it, she was definitely more capable than any girl he'd ever met, but... well, she reminded him of his little sister, Denise.

Then it was Andy. Granted, Andy had just tried to be a friend, but... did he really think that Brian needed protected? Did he really think that Brian was just a child who couldn't take care of himself? It just made him so angry! Brian could have slugged Tanner if he wanted to, it wouldn't have been that hard, but he'd never gotten the chance.

And John was just like Andy, in a psychotic, twisted kind of way. He had the same ego, the same way of thinking he was stronger than everyone else. It was only a matter of time until Bender started trying to "protect" him, too.

But, truthfully, what most bothered Brian about Bender was how absolutely brilliant he was. Brian had spent that first Monday's lunch period explaining the Theory of Relativity to him, mostly because Ally seemed uncomfortable if they watched her crying, and Bender had understood it. Just like that! And he was wasting his mind. He could have aced every class without even trying, and that made Brian mad. He had to struggle and work hard to get his A's, but he did it. Bender could have had the school in the palm of his hand with just the snap of his fingers, but he refused to try.

As for Allison, he wasn't really mad at Allison, per se, but when the rest of the Breakfast Club left, so did she. Vanished into smoke. She stopped talking to him, and after a few weeks, he stopped trying to get her to start. It was a shame, really. Ally might have been a better friend than all of them combined.

Brian was jerked out of his thoughts by his mother's shrill call of, "Phone for you, Brian!" from the kitchen. He was sitting in the living room doing his homework on the coffee table. He'd told his mother that he hadn't understood it, and that's why he was still doing it at ten on a Sunday night, but really, he'd just blown it off until then. He wandered into the kitchen lazily, wondering who could be calling him this late.

"Make it quick, Brian," his mother said. "She said it was important, or else I'd make you finish your homework. But you have to be in bed by ten thirty."

"Yes, Mom." He put the phone to his ear and listened to someone breathing, making sure it was actually a person. He didn't do that a lot, but it was ten at night. He was feeling a little loopy. "Hello?"

"Brian? Oh, thank God!"

Brian started. "C-Claire? Is that you?"

"Yes..."

She seemed ashamed. _Well, good_, he thought, more forcefully than he felt. She should be. What was she thinking anyway? After everything she did, especially to Allison and then not even apologizing or anything like that. And blowing him off to be partners with some hockey player. What was she thinking?

"Look, I know you hate me," Claire said. Brian snorted. "But this is important, Brian! Please! I need a favor."

Brian rolled his eyes and lowered his voice so his mother and sister in the living room couldn't hear. "What do you need? Homework done? Tutoring?"

"What? Oh, no, Brian, nothing like that. I don't... I'm not like that."

Brian snorted again. Yeah, right. Like he was supposed to believe that. They were all the same, Claire, Andrew, Bender... even Allison was somewhat like them, giving up on Brian as though he had been the one who made her cry. So when he spoke, he allowed the bitterness to seep into his voice. She deserved it. They all did. "Why should I believe that?"

"Really, Brian, it's not that kind of favor. Please."

He paused at great length, waiting. Last week, he'd have done it in a heart beat. Last week, he just missed them all. But now he was mad at them. He wanted nothing more than to say no to her, but he remembered that Saturday, brisk in his mind. He remembered how pretty Claire was that day. Sure she was always pretty, but that Saturday it had been more than outside her. He'd had a glimpse of what a wonderful person she could be, if she really tried, and he liked it.

_Damn it_, he thought, and sighed. "Fine. Depends on what it is though. I'm not killing anybody."

Claire actually laughed. At him. Three weeks ago, he realized, it would have seemed impossible for him to be on the telephone with Claire Standish, let alone her laughing at one of his jokes. It was all a sort of cursed miracle, if you thought about it, this Breakfast Club.

"Just... do you think you can sneak out and come over here?" she asked. Brian raised an eyebrow. "And call Allison and tell her to do the same."

"Claire, I can't! That's," he lowered his voice again, this time to a near whisper, "do you know what kind of trouble I'd get into if I snuck out?"

"I wouldn't ask you if it weren't important," she said, sadly, "and it is important, please, Brian."

He looked into the living room at his sister and his mother andclecnhed his jaw. His mom would be so disappointed... but he needed to think for himself. "Is it really important, Claire?"

"Life or death, Brian. I swear to God."

"And you want me to call Allison?" He dreaded that a bit. He'd called her three times the weekend before, and each time her father said that she couldn't talk.

"If you would, Brian. Andy doesn't want me to... and I really don't blame him for it..."

Brian resisted the urge to tell her that neither did he. "All right, Claire. But can you please just tell me what's going on?"

"When you get here, I promise." She went on to explain to him how to get up to her room without going to the front door. There was a pause. Brian thought she might have hung up but then she said quickly, "I owe you one, Brian. Thanks. Bye!"

And then she really did hang up. Brian sighed at the reciever and set it down for a second, then dialed Ally's number very quickly. One ring... two rings... three rings... four ri- "Hello?"

"Mr. Reynolds?"

"Whose this?"

"It's Brian, sir. I've called a couple of times before for Allison..."

"Well, Allison can't talk right now, you'll have to call back later-"

"Please sir, can you tell her that I really need to talk to her and that... that..." Brian searched for the words and decided on Claire's, "that it's life and death, sir?"

There was a horribly long pause and a gruff grunt of what Brian thought might have been approval. A few seconds later he heard a far away call of, "Allison! Come down here and take this call! You can't hide up there forever!"

A moment later, someone picked up the phone, but didn't say anything. Brian wondered if maybe it was her father. Should he say anything? He did. "Ally?"

"Yes," was the curt reply.

"Ally, it's... well, it's nice to talk to you."

There was silence.

"Listen, Ally," Brian pressed on. "Claire wants us to go over to her house right now. She, uh, she says it's important. Life or death were her words. I'm not sure if it's that bad but-"

"I can't."

"You can't sneak out? I probably can't either," Brian said. He gave a sideways look at his mother still sitting in the living room, pretending not to be watching him.

"No, I could sneak out if I wanted," she said, sounding proud, like she did when she told everyone she was a nymphomaniac. "I just can't."

"Why not?"

"I don't know where she lives."

Brian sighed good-naturedly and explained to her the neighborhood in which Claire lived and how to get up to her room. He'd been there once before when his father, an architect, had to add on some more to their neighbor's house. Claire had been out on her proch with some friends and just watched with mild interest. She never said a word to him.

"So are you coming?"

There was another long pause. Finally Ally said, "Of course. Meet you there." And she hung up.

Brian looked at his mom and yawned exagerratedly. "I'm gonna finish my homework in my room, then go to bed, Mom, okay?"

His mother looked suspicious, but just nodded her consent. He took his books into his room, closed the door loudly, crawled through the window and hung by his fingers until he let himself drop to the ground. "Oof!" he said. The rain beat down on him and he wished he'd brought a jacket, but it was too late now. He ran as fast as he could to Claire's neighborhood, mostly to get out of the rain.


End file.
